


The Patronus Charm

by krabapple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krabapple/pseuds/krabapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus tries to re-teach Sirius the Patronus charm, but there are obstacles on both sides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Patronus Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Set during OOTP.
> 
> Written prior to both HBP and DH.

Whenever Sirius had nightmares, he would come to Remus' room. Remus had lost count of the number of times he had woken in the middle of the night to the shifting of the bed and then the heavy weight, not of Sirius climbing in beside him, but of Padfoot curling up at the foot of his bed, head on Remus' left ankle. Remus would go back to sleep, dreaming of dirt and a moon and the stars, and wake in the morning to find Sirius back in human form, curled in a ball with his arm slung over the end of the bed, or still as Padfoot, gently snoring. Remus would throw a blanket over a still sleeping Sirius, whether he was dog or human, and then go downstairs to start the morning tea.

_______________

 

Remus padded up the stairs at Twelve Grimmauld Place, voices floating behind him from downstairs. He walked down the hallway to his bedroom, where through the open door he could see Sirius sitting on the floor in front of his trunk, which, per Hogwarts standards, was at the foot of Remus' bed. The trunk was open, which was most certainly not the way Remus had left it.

He paused in the doorframe and said, "You're eating my secret stash of chocolate."

"Then it's not all that secret, is it?" Sirius asked, looking up at Remus from his position on the floor, a box of chocolate open in his lap and an incriminating chocolate covered cherry in his fingers.

Remus sighed dramatically. "I'll have to find a new hiding place."

Sirius popped the chocolate in his mouth. "Find a good one this time. You haven't managed to in almost twenty-five years."

"Shove over." Remus crossed the room and sat next to Sirius, jostling his elbow in an attempt to get Sirius to hand the box of chocolate over. Sirius held the box of chocolate out to Remus instead, keeping his hand firmly attached to the end of the box. Remus shrugged and chose a solid piece of dark chocolate.

"Don't look so put out, Moony," Sirius said as Remus bit the piece in half. "I only ate the ones with fruit in them."

"Well. Fruit _does_ ruin perfectly good chocolate," Remus admitted.

"So I did you a favor. Cleared the field."

"Indeed."

They were silent for a few minutes, both men eating quietly from Remus' box of chocolate and listening to the shouts of good-bye and the closing of doors downstairs.

Sirius was the first to speak again. "Did anything important happen after I left?"

Remus shook his head. "No, not really. The schedule of watches at the Department of Mysteries got straightened out for the week. Snape said a few more things to Dumbledore about Harry, not that it matters, which Molly objected to, not that that matters either. Dumbledore has certainly made up his mind on the subject."

"So the usual."

"Yes."

"Sorry I left."

"No, you're not," Remus countered. Sirius looked surprised.

"I am!"

"More like, you're sorry in case leaving in a snit makes you look foolish."

"Did it?"

"I wouldn't worry; everyone's used to it." Remus gave Sirius a bit of smile in order to take the edge off his words. Sirius didn't smile back, but his eyebrow twitched.

"Well. I am sorry to have left you down there alone," Sirius apologized.

Remus shrugged, and wiped his hands on his pants. "I was hardly alone."

"You know what I meant."

"Yes. I just wanted to check on you in case agreeing with Snape had spontaneously made your head fly right off your body and combust. I don't know if there's a cleaning spell to deal with _that_."

"Ha, ha, Remus." Sirius grimaced for a moment, but said through his scowl, "But I have heard reports that hell has bloody frozen over."

"I'm sure they're true, if it means you and Snape are agreeing on something." Remus waited for Sirius' rant to start, but Sirius only growled, and then was silent for a few long seconds.

"It's not right," Sirius finally said.

"I know."

"The boy should know."

"I know."

"He has a right to know the truth; know why Voldemort is so determined . . ."

"Yes, Sirius," Remus interrupted. "But Dumbledore disagrees, and right now, he's the one with the final say in the matter."

"What bloody right does Dumbledore have to make any decisions about Harry? _I'm_ his godfather; I'm the one . . ."

"Dumbledore is the one who can keep Harry safe," Remus said bluntly. Sirius stopped and looked at him, and Remus didn't miss the betrayal that flit across Sirius' face, but Sirius didn't argue. He looked sullenly down into the open box of chocolate, until Remus bumped Sirius' knee with his own.

"It won't be this way forever," Remus said when Sirius looked up at him.

"Right," Sirius said, and put the lid back on the box. The two men sat in silence for a minute, until Sirius moved slightly. He sat the box next to him and put a hand on Remus' thigh.

Remus tensed. He couldn't help it.

"Remus," Sirius began.

"Sirius," Remus interrupted. "This isn't why I came up here."

"I know. I just . . ." He trailed off, squeezing Remus' thigh gently instead.

"I know. I know you just. But I can't. I _can't_ , Sirius."

"But . . ."

"But nothing." Remus shifted away enough so that Sirius' hand left his leg. "I can't do this. I won't. Not because you're lonely . . . not because you're bored."

Sirius' mouth became a hard, thin line. "I'm not bloody _bored_ , Remus."

"Leave it, Sirius. It's almost twenty years old. Leave it." Remus wanted to sound determined, but only managed to sound tired.

"Moony," Sirius started to say, but Remus stopped him again.

"I'm not having his conversation again." This time, Remus did manage to sound determined, and Sirius looked away. Remus told himself it was better that way, and went to make dinner.

____________________

 

Padfoot did not come to Remus' room that night, or the night after that, although Remus could hear the creaking of bedsprings through the wall, off-key music signifying Sirius' restless and disturbed sleep.

___________________

 

"I've been thinking," Remus said a few days later. He and Sirius were in the attic, sorting through a rather enormous amount of Black family garbage: old portraits, costume jewelry, papers, books and clothing, to name just a few of the items that had made their way to the attic over the course of Merlin knew how many years.

Sirius grunted from where he was digging through a box of old clothes, but he didn't look up.

"I think you should practice the Patronus charm." Remus wrinkled his nose at a god-awful example of a bookend, and looked over for Sirius' reaction. He wasn't disappointed. Sirius was sitting in the middle of various piles of wizarding robes, a scarlet set in his hand. His jaw had gone open, and he was staring at Remus with a mixture of mirth, incredulity and outrage on his face. He still hadn't said anything.

Before Sirius could draw breath to start speaking, Remus continued, "You are, after all, still wanted by the Ministry. I would think they'd still be sending Dementors after you."

Remus could see Sirius' intake of breath from where he was sitting. "You think they can find me here?"

Remus shrugged. "They found Harry in the middle of a Muggle street. I would think it's at least possible."

"They won't come here. And I thought that was one reason why I wasn't allowed _out_." Sirius gripped the robe in his hand until his knuckles were white.

"It would be just a precaution. But I think it's a wise one."

"I outran them for two years on my own."

"This could help you, especially if you needed it in an emergency."

"I won't need it."

"You did once," Remus said, keeping his voice soft and even.

"And I needed a thirteen year old to save me, is that it?"

Remus closed his eyes as Sirius stood up, abandoning the box of clothes. "I know that was different. You didn't have a wand then."

"No, I didn't. I know the fucking charm, Remus."

Remus looked up to where Sirius stood over him, and met his glare without flinching. "But can you do it anymore, Sirius?"

Sirius didn't say anything, but his jaw locked, and Remus knew he had guessed correctly. "You'd be able to, I'm sure. Just let me show you how, Sirius," he said softly.

"I'll never need to use it," Sirius said, not without bitterness, loosening his jaw with an effort.

"Never say never," Remus answered, considering the matter closed.

____________________

 

Three days later, Remus and Sirius were standing in the small Black back yard, bundled in winter gear with wands tucked into gloved hands.

"It's fucking freezing," Sirius pronounced, his words visible as steam in front of him.

"It is November, Sirius," Remus reminded, picking up a large suitcase and hefting it down the steps.

"You're the one who wanted to do this. Why are we doing it outside?"

"More room this way." Remus put the suitcase down in the yard and gestured for Sirius to come down the steps. Sirius didn't move. "Also, the more torturous this is for you, the more fun it is for me."

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny Professor Lupin. Will this be on the exam?" Sirius walked down the steps, coming to a stop in front of Remus and the suitcase.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr. Black," Remus replied. The suitcase rattled ominously, and fell sideways.

"Is that what I think it is in there?" Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. "Boggart. I've spelled it so it'll look like a Dementor."

Sirius looked surprised. "Can you do that? I thought a boggart always took on a different form, depending on the person."

Remus shrugged. "It's an illusion charm, really. No matter what form the boggart takes, we'll only see a Dementor. Wears off in a couple of hours or so."

"I'm impressed."

"You should be. It's a tricky piece of work." Remus clapped his hands together. "Well. I suppose we should get started."

Sirius shook his hair out of his eyes and grinned. "Yes, Professor."

Remus tamped down a bit of frustration and rolled his eyes instead. "I see now why you drove Professor Dumac to drink."

Sirius grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, but didn't reply.

"First things first. You know the charm."

"Yes."

"Say it for me, no wand."

"Expecto Patronum."

"Again."

"Expecto Patronum," Sirius said again, his impeccable Black enunciation coming to the fore.

"Excellent."

"Thank you, Professor," Sirius grinned. Remus wondered briefly if stamping on Sirius' foot would wipe that grin off his face.

"You've been able to successfully produce a corporal Patronus before."

"Yes."

"May I ask what it was?"

"You may."

"Sirius." Remus managed to make the name into a threat.

Sirius seemed to relent, and to Remus' surprise, a look somewhere between melancholy and nostalgia set upon his features. "It used to be a lion. Before. A lion." Sirius shook his head and barked a short, bittersweet laugh. "As if being a Gryffindor gave me all the protection I'd ever need in the world." Sirius shook his head again and his mouth twisted sideways.

There was silence between the two men as their breath huffed out in puffs between them.

Remus recovered first, and shook himself. "And you know you have to have a happy memory."

This time, Sirius only nodded.

"Right then. I suppose we might as well have a go of it," Remus said, positioning himself behind the suitcase, hands at the clasps. Sirius automatically backed away to leave plenty of room between himself and the suitcase.

"Ready?" Remus asked. Sirius nodded. "Okay, then, on three: one . . . two . . . three!" Remus unclasped the suitcase and stood back. The boggart, looking for the entire world like an actual Dementor, floated eerily out of the suitcase and immediately started in toward Sirius, who was standing with his wand at the ready.

"Expecto Patronum!" Sirius shouted, but the boggart continued to float toward him, scaly, lesioned hands drifting out from under its robes. Sirius took what looked like an involuntary step back.

"Expecto Patronum!" he tried again, voice louder, but less sure, less even. Remus saw the hand that held Sirius' wand shake a little, and Sirius' face, which had previously been red and rosy from the cold, was fast losing color, though red spots remained high on Sirius' cheekbones.

"Expecto Patronum!" Sirius bellowed, but to no avail. No white light of any kind, much less a corporeal Patronus, had emitted from his wand, which was now wavering and unsteady. Sirius continued to stand his ground even as the boggart still drifted toward him, but his eyes were beginning to take on a glazed over, almost dead look, which made Remus' heart shrink a little in his chest.

Finally, Remus stepped in, putting himself between Sirius and the boggart. "Expecto Patronum!" he said, strong enough for white light to begin to come out from his wand, just enough so that he could back the boggart up and wrestle it back into the suitcase, which he did, shutting the claps with a definite, echoing snick. He turned back to see Sirius looking down at the ground, breathing heavily.

He walked over and gently put his hand on Sirius' forearm, covered in his black cloak. "It's only the first time. It'll get better. _You'll_ get better."

Sirius didn't look up as he said, "I could do it before. It's not that difficult a charm."

Remus smiled reassuringly at that. "Maybe not to a young Sirius Black, but it's difficult for most wizards, even adults."

Sirius looked up and drew breath. "Don't patronize me, Remus."

Remus squeezed Sirius' arm. "I'm not, Padfoot," he said.

Sirius, looking like he didn't believe Remus, gently disengaged his arm and walked across the yard, back up the steps, and inside the house.

Remus stood in the yard and sighed, his breath crystallizing in the air in front of him.

______________________

 

They practiced the charm for the next three days. Each time they tried, Sirius failed to produce anything close to a Patronus, and Remus woke each night to the weight of Padfoot hauling himself up onto the foot of the bed.

______________________

 

They were having lunch, roast beef and potatoes left over from the night before, when Sirius said, "I know what the problem is."

Remus blinked. "I admit that Doxie solution is a bit dodgy, but it seems to be working well enough. I think we've gotten most of them out of the third floor." They had been doing more housework that morning; Christmas was beginning to creep up, and Sirius wanted the place as clean as possible before then.

Sirius tilted his head at Remus from across the table. "No. The problem. With me and the Patronus charm."

"Oh," Remus said. "I . . ." He started to say that there was no problem, but stopped himself. "What were you thinking?" he asked instead.

Sirius put his fork down and stared at his plate. "I don't have any happy memories," he said evenly. He sounded quite accepting about it; Remus wondered if he'd been practicing.

Remus shook his head. "That can't be true."

"Oh, no?" Sirius looked up, his left eyebrow raised a bit sternly. Remus was strongly reminded of Mrs. Black for a moment, though he knew Sirius wouldn't appreciate the comparison.

"No," Remus countered firmly. He refused to believe it. "There must be something. What memory have you been using?"

Sirius sighed. "Mostly I've tried thinking about Harry: the first time I saw him play Quidditch, the first time I saw him after I escaped Azkaban."

Remus bit down on the part of him that wanted to ask if that wasn't working. He knew _something_ wasn't working. Instead he asked, "Aren't those happy memories?"

"They are." Sirius stopped. "They are, but. Don't you . . . isn't everything? Maybe not for you, I suppose."

"Maybe what's not for me?"

"Everything for me is . . . colored, somehow. Tainted. Seeing Harry for the first time; it's a happy memory, it brings me such joy, but. But always, there at the edges, I know that I should have been there for him all along. And what happened to James and Lily. And me. It doesn't go away. It smudges everything."

Remus closed his eyes against this, unconsciously. Before he could say anything, Sirius was speaking again.

"I've even tried that moment in the Shack, when I saw you again for the first time, and you forgave me. You _forgave_ me. But then all I can think is how I'd failed you, everyone, in the first place, and the happiness is not enough. It's never enough."

Remus opened his eyes again to find Sirius staring down hard at the plate in front of him. He didn't know what to say, what he could say to that. "What about memories from before?"

Sirius looked up again at that, and barked bitterly. "What the Dementors didn't take away, they might as well have."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what good memories I do have from school, from before Azkaban, it's like. Well. They're like watching a movie, a film, that I'm not part of. The Dementors were there, all the time, and they wanted to feed on those memories. Constantly. So if I didn't want that to happen, if I wanted to keep them, I had to . . . make it seem like I didn't care about them. I. Now they're like a loop that runs in my head, but I don't _feel_ anything good about them. They're just . . . there. I can tell you what happened, what people were wearing, even about the smells, but. I can't say if they make me feel happy, because they don't. They just. Exist.”" Sirius finished and abruptly got up, dropping his dish into the sink.

Remus thought for a moment. "I didn't know that. I don't know what to say," he said, honestly.

Sirius nodded, but he didn't speak, just stood at the sink, his back to Remus. Remus got up, scraped his scraps into the garbage, and put his plate and fork in the sink, too, standing next to Sirius. He turned to look at Sirius, and caught him in profile only; Sirius still hadn't moved.

"There's not anything from before? Not a prank we pulled at school? Not a moment in the dorm? Something small, even?"

Sirius shook his head.

"What about something larger? When Harry was born? James and Lily's wedding?"

Sirius snorted at that, a smile that was a little gruesome twisting his lips. "James and Lily's wedding wasn't exactly a happy memory even then."

Remus' eyebrows knit together. "Why not?" He remembered a laughing, happy, slightly drunken Sirius on that day.

Sirius turned to look at Remus straight on. "You're the one who doesn't want to talk about it, Remus."

Remus shook his head, still confused. "Talk about James and Lily?"

Sirius' mouth twisted again. "No. About us. That's the night I turned you down, remember?"

Remus closed his eyes, and rubbed his fingers against his forehead. He did remember. Of course he remembered. He just hadn't thought it had mattered much to Sirius, until now. "Sirius . . ."

"I know, Remus. I know. It was ages ago. Ancient history. But that's a memory the Dementors couldn't take away even if they had wanted to: you talking to me at James and Lily's reception, telling me you'd loved me since you were thirteen, and did I maybe want to give it a shot. And me saying no, not now, wasn't in a good place for that, sorry, Moony." Sirius' voice was bitter, and laced with guilt and something else Remus would have pegged as regret if he didn't know better.

Remus sighed again, and suddenly realized that maybe he and Sirius were standing just a little too close together. "I . . . I was young and stupid, Sirius. We all were. Well, maybe not James and Lily, but the rest of us. Anyway, it was a foolish thing to do, and I shouldn't have done it. It's long over now."

Sirius grunted. "Right. Long over. Except that I completely blew my one chance with you to bloody hell, and have regretted it for almost every moment since."

"That's not true, Sirius Black, and you know it," Remus said sharply.

"Why not, Remus? Just because I shagged half the women in England and two-thirds of the blokes in SoHo didn't mean that it wasn't you I really wanted."

Suddenly angry, Remus went to move away from the sink, but Sirius reached out, lightening fast, and gripped him around the wrist. Remus tried to shrug him off, but failed; Sirius was nothing if not stubborn when he wanted to be.

So Remus lashed out in the only other way he had. "You don't get to do this to me, Sirius. Not now. You don't. I don't care how lonely or angry or sad you are. You don't get to use me like this." Remus' voice was as cold as ice, and harder.

"Use you? You think that's what this is about? _Moony_. It's about the fact that I made a mistake seventeen years ago, and that I knew it then, and I know it know, and I want to make up for it, but you still won't let me in."

"Because it's not fair, Sirius. It's not fair. Just because you make up your mind, I'm supposed to swoon into your arms and say, 'Oh, Sirius, that's okay, I've spent my whole life waiting for this moment, and now that you're finally ready it's the happiest day of my life!'" Remus stopped, his voice pitched higher in imitation of a school girl.

"That's not what I expect!"

"Isn't it? Don't you want me to say that I've loved you for more than half my life, and then fall into your bed?" Remus knew his voice was scalding, hot enough to burn, but he didn't care. Sirius let go of Remus' arm.

Remus picked back up again. "It's not fair," he repeated, softer this time. "I didn't live with this for all this time, live with loving you when you didn't love me back, live with watching you with everyone else but me, live with you in Azkaban and thinking you capable of betraying all of us; I didn't do all that so that you could decide to have me when you were ready."

"So why are you here then?" Sirius asked.

"I'm here . . . because that's what friends do for friends."

Sirius shook his head, looking ready to argue. Remus held up his hand, and Sirius' mouth closed with an audible click.

"What do you want, Sirius?" Remus asked, weary.

"I want," Sirius paused. "I want a happy memory."

"Then you'll have to make one without me in it," Remus said, and walked out of the kitchen.

________________________________

 

Remus slept through the night for the next three weeks with no Padfoot to wake him. He and Sirius tried the Patronus charm a half dozen more times, but Sirius was no closer to achieving it then when he had started.

_______________________________

 

It was the evening before the full moon, just before sunset. Snape had already come and gone, bringing Remus his Wolfsbane. Remus had taken the goblet up to his room; he was sitting at his desk, waiting. He tended to put off taking the Wolfsbane for as long as possible. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for its effects--he certainly was. The Change wasn't any easier, or less painful, but he didn't become a vicious, ravaging monster; he could more or less sleep through the night, curled up against the floor, dreaming of rabbits and squirrels and other bloody prey.

The best thing about the Wolfsbane was that it made him almost incapable of hurting anyone; the worst thing about it was that, somehow, it fundamentally changed what being a werewolf meant. Remus didn't want to hurt anyone, least of all himself. But he couldn't help that he suddenly felt like an integral part of himself had morphed, changed shape overnight and lost its ragged edges, and he didn't know quite how to make the new piece fit. He had always known that he wasn't a terrible monster, but now that that was actually true for every day out of the month, instead of just 29 or 30, he didn't know quite what to think anymore; he had worked so hard to accept the wolf that he was strangely reticent to let go of it.

The taste of the stuff--all herbal and burnt bread and decay--didn't help, either. Remus could smell it from where the goblet sat on his desk, and wrinkled his nose.

The drinking of the Wolfsbane aside, all other arrangements had been made. There was no Order meeting tonight, and all Order members knew not to come by. He was in his room, and had made Sirius lock it from the outside, so the key would be inaccessible to him. He had spelled the door himself, anyway, to sound an alarm should he manage, in wolf form, to open it regardless of the key. Sirius had been carefully schooled about the alarm, and about what to do in the event the Wolfsbane didn't take. No silver bullets, but Remus had made sure Sirius was still able to perform _Stupify_ , and there was a reason that a dart gun, filled with animal tranquilizers, was kept on top of a lonely kitchen cabinet.

Sirius. He was another constant concern for Remus, but Remus had to put that aside for the night. He had come to Grimmauld Place out of loyalty: duty, almost. He was the last Marauder, or the last that counted to Sirius, and the ties of all for one and one for all ran deep. Remus never admitted to himself that there might be another reason he lived at Grimmauld Place: one that ran closer to his heart, one that occasionally made his blood heat with desire; one that was closer to things Sirius had whispered about before they had come to Grimmauld Place, things that Sirius hadn't brought up for weeks now, not since the lunch in the kitchen.

Many times, Remus thought it should have been James; James who had to live with Sirius, depressed and surly; James who had to watch to make sure Sirius ate, and bathed, and brushed his teeth, as if Sirius were a child, not a grown man. James, Remus thought, would have been better at taking care of Sirius than he was. James would have known how to reach Sirius, how to make Sirius laugh, how to make Sirius' nightmares stop. Remus was unable to do any of those things, though sometimes he had to wonder if he was unable, or just unwilling. Reaching out to Sirius would mean letting go of part of himself, and like the situation with the wolf inside of him, Remus wasn't sure he was ready to release what he had spent so long accepting.

But James wasn't here, and couldn't be, and if he could have been, it was likely none of them would be where they were in the first place. The fact that James had been long dead didn't make Remus wish any less that he were there to joke with Sirius and playfully cuff Sirius on the back of the head, or talk Sirius through his nightmares. In fact, it only made Remus wish for James all the more desperately. All Remus could think to do was to teach Sirius a protection charm, and even that wasn't working.

Remus sighed. The room was now streaked with orange and red, the pure palette of sunset, and he knew he couldn't put off taking the Wolfsbane any longer. As he did so, as he brought the goblet to his lips, he heard shuffling outside of his door, and recognized the footfall of Sirius. He expected Sirius to unlock the door and come in, though Remus had no idea why he would do so, but as the potion began to burn down his throat, Remus noted the changes to the noises outside. There were no longer footfalls, but the sounds of padding and too-long nails scraping the floorboards. As Remus finished the Wolfsbane with a grimace, he heard the snuffling sounds of Padfoot sniffing underneath the crack of the door, and then a thump as the dog curled up on the floor, his tail knocking against the locked and spelled door, hours before Sirius would have normally gone to bed.

Before the sun set completely, Remus thought that perhaps he needed to think of more he could do for Sirius than just making him practice old magic.

_________________________

 

Remus watched from the doorway as Sirius attempted to wrestle an enormous pine tree into the Black family living room.

"You could help, you know, Moony, instead of just standing there smirking like an idiot," Sirius said from somewhere behind the fifth and sixth layer of branches.

"You could use magic, you know, Padfoot, and just levitate the thing into place," Remus replied, just managing to cut off a laugh.

Sirius' face emerged from around the side of the tree. "I'm saving that for the decorations," he said. He came out from behind the tree, which he'd placed right in front of the Black family tree tapestry. "Do you think it's straight?" he asked.

The tree was seriously lilting to the left. "I think it's about to fall over," Remus said, reaching for his wand and then slowly levitating the tree until it stood up straight.

"Thanks, Remus."

"What decorations?"

Sirius grinned, and Remus suddenly grew apprehensive. He knew that grin, and what it meant. Still, it was a nice change to see it plastered over Sirius' face again, and something in Remus' chest eased, just a little.

"Pixies," Sirius said, his eyes sparkling.

"No," Remus shook his head.

Sirius frowned. "Why not?"

"They bite, Sirius. Do you not remember that spring Peter used them on his date with Sandra Cadbury? When we put them in the bushes? We all had welts for weeks."

"That's only because Peter was careless with them."

"No, that was because they _bite_ , Sirius," Remus said, though he felt himself giving into Sirius already, just a little slip of his heart, right . . . _there_.

"They won't bite. And once they're in the tree and have plenty to eat, they'll be fine. They'll be very pretty."

Remus gave an exaggerated sigh.

"You don't have to help, Remus. I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own." Sirius moved toward the large box in the room, the one with little holes in the top. He picked it up, and it rattled a little.

Remus walked toward the box, too. "I want to help, Sirius. I'm just teasing you." His eyes met Sirius' over the box and suddenly he had to fight down a lump in his throat.

Sirius looked at him. "It's just . . . it'll be Harry's first Christmas at anything remotely like a home. Mine, too, at least in a long time. I want it to be . . ."

"Happy?" Remus supplied.

"Yeah."

"Then hand me the box," Remus said, taking the box and opening it, bracing himself to deal with the pixies.

Sirius looked down, but Remus didn't miss his smile.

____________________

 

The next night, Remus came downstairs to get a drink of water, and found Padfoot sleeping underneath the beautifully decorated and sparkling tree. Remus didn't wake him up, but he did go and nap on the couch for a bit, dozing in and out as he watched the pixie lights dance off of Padfoot's sleek, black fur.

____________________

 

Remus could hear the voices coming from upstairs, and he paused in the middle of writing a letter to Harry, in which he was attempting to finalize Christmas plans. Voices? Plural? There shouldn't have been anyone else in the house besides himself, Sirius and Kreacher, and that was certainly not Kreacher's voice drifting down the stairs. He had thought he heard Sirius at first, but he didn't now; there was just one voice, a low tenor, echoing off the walls. Even at a distance he could tell the voice was strident, hard. Cutting. Remus got up from the desk, took his wand out of his pocket, and started up the stairs.

The voice was coming from Mr. Black's old bedroom. Remus and Sirius had cleaned it out weeks ago, using it mostly for storage. The door was cracked open, but not enough that Remus could see inside it from a distance. Remus was three paces from the door before he recognized the voice inside as his own. He stopped suddenly, shocked, and then quickly covered the remaining space to the door, pulling it open even further, so he could see clearly inside, but not be seen.

Sirius was standing stock still in the middle of the room, white as a sheet, wand frozen in his hand. In front of him stood Remus, or a version of him, dressed in khaki trousers and an old jumper. The version of Remus was younger, and didn't have the same lines round the mouth and eyes that Remus did now. Sirius was silent, but the Remus in front of him was speaking in low, dangerous tones now.

"You are so foolish, Sirius. And so stupid. So very bloody stupid. Always have been, always will be. Never thought before you did anything. Sent Snape to the Shack without even a second thought about what that might mean to me. Caroused around with half of London, leaving the rest of us to clean up your messes and fight against Voldemort, all on our own. Didn't think for even one minute before going after Peter fucking Pettigrew, did you? What were you going to do if you caught him, Sirius? What did you think he was going to do if _he_ caught _you_? God, you deserved to go to Azkaban, just for your own stupidity. How you were ever able to concoct a plan to get out of there, I'll never know.

Or maybe it's not stupidity. Maybe it's selfishness. Selfish Sirius, never thought about how what he did would affect other people. Too selfish to be the Secret Keeper for James and Lily. What? Were you afraid Voldemort might use Crucio on your delicate little mind? Couldn't risk getting hurt, could you? Not even for James. Left James to die, and Lily, too, while you went and did what? Fucked yet another whore down on Knockturn Alley?

Harry would have died, too, you know. And what did you ever do for him? Bought him a broomstick? A silly, little piece of wood? You think that makes up for your selfishness? Too worried about getting revenge against Peter to worry about Harry. So Harry went to live with those Muggles, who told him he was a freak and locked him in a cupboard. At least until Hogwarts, where Voldemort has taken every chance to kill Harry he's gotten. Where were you then? Desperately trying to hang onto your happy memories, Sirius? You should have let the Dementors have them; they're not more than shit now, are they, _Padfoot_?" The second Remus spat the nickname out like a knife, and even from the doorway Remus saw Sirius flinch, his fist tighten around his wand. Remus wanted to move into the room, to interrupt, to respond, but he felt rooted to the floor, mesmerized.

"Oh, then there's me. What a sad little tale of woe that is, Sirius. Lost you, Peter, Lily, James, Harry, all in one swoop. Not that I should have been surprised. You always did fuck things up. But you know the ironic part? I actually thought I loved you. I did. Pined after you, I did. Even all those years while you were in Azkaban. Even after you killed James. How very school-girl of me.

But I got over it. Do you want to hear exactly how I got over it? Or, more rightly, exactly how I let others get over me? Do you want to hear about all the different things I've done with all those other men? Do you, Padfoot? I could tell you stories you wouldn't believe. And the best part? None of those men were you!

And even today, here I am, looking after you in this god-awful house, and you say you want me. That you made a mistake before. Oh, but you're still selfish Sirius. Only want me to make yourself feel better. If I took up with you, that wouldn't be for long, I'd only fuck you until I found someone better. Someone who could give me a life. I'll find that person, and then I'll leave you here to rot, just like every other Black in this house has been left to _rot_. I'll leave you, Sirius, and then poor, miserable, lonely, selfish Sirius will have only his mother's portrait for company."

And then, the Remus in the room began to laugh, and it was the most chilling, stomach-churning sound the actual Remus Lupin had ever heard. Something came loose inside of Remus, suddenly released, and it made him step back. As he did so, he backed into the door, causing it to open all the way and hit the opposite wall with a bang.

The second version of Remus turned to look at the door, at Remus, and as soon as he did the laughter stopped, ebbed away, and the second version of Remus started to mist and come apart, until what was left were clouds, and a big, bright, full moon. It took all of a second for Remus to put the pieces together, to see the open suitcase on the floor, and the moon in front of him. He yelled "Riddikulus!" and the moon began to fall apart into big pieces of cheese, which Remus levitated into the suitcase. He shut the suitcase with a snick, and looked up.

Sirius was still standing there, and from the closer angle, Remus could tell he was shaking. Neither man said a word until Sirius ran a hand over his face and said, "I just. I just wanted to practice."

Remus nodded. "It's okay. The charm must have worn off. It's okay, Sirius. Just a boggart."

Sirius took a shuddering breath, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He barked his short, bitter laugh.

"Just a boggart. Even if everything it said was true." He barked that laugh again. Remus reflected that he was starting to hate that sound.

"Sirius, nothing that thing said was true."

"Oh, no?" Sirius took his hands off his eyes, but still looked at the floor, not Remus. "I didn't fail Harry? Or James and Lily? Or you? Not even you can say I didn't, Remus." He looked up.

Remus crossed the room, intending to take Sirius' hands in his own, or to touch his face, but Sirius backed up quickly, so Remus stopped. "I. What's done is done Sirius. It's awful and horrific and tragic, but it's done. No one likes it, but that's the way it is. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish that things were different, but they aren't, and they can't be. The only thing we have is now. It's the things we can do now, Padfoot, that will change things, make things different. For you. For me. For Harry."

"So why can't you love me, now?" Sirius said, sitting on the side of the bed, so softly that Remus wasn't sure he'd said it.

Remus sat down next to Sirius and took Sirius' hand, cold as ice, into his. He thought about it, felt what had come loose in his chest earlier float there, aching and warm. "I never said I didn't," Remus answered.

"But that doesn't mean that you can, or that you will," Sirius pointed out.

"I know," Remus said. "I know, Padfoot."

They sat there, side by side, fingers curled together, until Arthur Weasley flooed in well after dark, the first member of the Order to arrive for the evening's meeting.

________________________

 

By mutual, and unspoken, consent, they stopped the Patronus charm lessons, and spent the next few days preparing for company, at least until Voldemort struck out at Arthur.

Remus once again started waking up to Padfoot's movement on the bed, though not as often as before, and when he woke in the morning, it was more often to Sirius on the end of the bed than to Padfoot.

________________________

 

Remus waited until just after the clock struck midnight, changing Christmas Eve into Christmas Day, and then went into Sirius' room. Sirius was there, curled up underneath the blankets, bare chest rising and falling in the deep breath of sleep. Remus climbed up and sat on the foot of the bed, waiting for Sirius to wake up.

It didn't take very long. Sirius had always been a restless sleeper, and Azkaban hadn't done anything to improve that. He stirred a little, and then sat bolt upright when he realized he wasn't alone.

"Easy, Pads," Remus whispered. "It's just me."

"Good God, Remus!" Sirius exclaimed, emitting a sigh of relief. "You scared the holy hell out of me."

"Serves you right," Remus replied. "I can't remember the number of times I've woken up to you or Padfoot in the last six months."

"Well if you don't want me to come in, you could have just said so," Sirius answered, more than a bit grumpily.

"That's not why I'm here," Remus said.

"Then why are you here? It's bloody midnight, Moony, and we're all still trying to recover from what happened to Arthur."

Remus nodded, but "Happy Christmas," was all he said in answer.

Sirius gave him a look that was somewhere between amused, sleepy, and pissed to be woken up. "Happy Christmas to you, too, Remus. Is that what you came here to say?"

"No, I'm also here to give you your gift."

"I don't see a bow on you anywhere, Moony."

"Because that would be tacky."

"But I wouldn't be wrong, would I?" Remus could detect, even still, the small note of hope in Sirius' voice.

"Not exactly," Remus said, and reached his hand out, fingers gently brushing along Sirius' cheek. Sirius closed his eyes in response to the touch, and Remus only tightened his grip, cupping Sirius' jaw with one hand.

Sirius breathed deeply, once, but other than that, he didn't move. Remus leant in, his nose brushing Sirius' briefly before he closed his mouth against the other man's. Sirius' lips were strangely cold, but Remus didn't mind, just rubbed his lips against Sirius' a little bit and added the tiniest bit of pressure. Eventually he pulled back, just slightly, and Sirius opened his eyes. They were dark, pupils wide against the light gray, attempting to take in as much light as possible, and they were glistening slightly, though from the moonlight coming through the window or from unshed tears, Remus didn't know.

"Why? Why now, Remus?" Sirius asked. The uncertainty in his voice made Remus' heart want to break.

"Because. Because I've been a bloody fool. Because I could have had you all this time, but was too stupid to let myself. I've lived with my own bitterness and heartbreak for too long, Padfoot, and I need to let it go. And I need to not add to yours."

Sirius looked at Remus briefly and then looked down, allowing Remus to still hold his jaw in his hand.

"Also, because, Sirius?" Remus paused and waited for Sirius to look up and meet his eyes. When he did, Remus said, "I want you to know, I will always be here for you. I will always teach you what you need to know. I will always protect you." He stopped. "No matter what you might be afraid of, I will never leave you. I won't shut you out, not again, because I know there's no way you'll fail me now, or in the future, and that you never did in the past." Remus watched Sirius' eyes widen, and wished he could watch all the fear and self-loathing vanish from them forever. All he could do was try to make them disappear as much as possible.

"Like having my own flesh and blood Patronus," Sirius whispered, leaning in even closer.

"Yes," Remus said, and his breath caught; Sirius' mouth was so close he could feel Sirius' breath wisping against his lips.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked once more.

"Yes," Remus answered simply. He was. "So kiss me."

Sirius did, and in the morning, they woke up together, both of them human.


End file.
